Lost Travelers
by Raven Aorla
Summary: After the events of "Meet the New Boss", Castiel finds himself in a hospital, lacking most of his powers. Again. But this time, Jimmy Novak is in a separate but identical body in the next bed. Will they be able to get their eccentric doctor to help?
1. Chapter 1

_Not my characters. A sequel to my fic "Falling Angels and Rising Apes", though this can be read as a standalone. Spoilers for everything Supernatural. _

_..._

House liked the bizarre cases, especially when Cuddy was willing to let him slide on the boring ones for their sake. He was within inches of whistling as he limped to inspect his new patients.

Identical twins. One had been ID'ed as James Novak, who had been listed as a missing person from Pontiac, Illinois nearly four years ago. The other had no records that anyone had managed to find. They'd been brought in by someone identifying himself as Chuck Shurley, who was also footing the bill for their care, and were both initially comatose and hypothermic.

A few things made them special, though, and worth House's attention. James was severely malnourished, with incipient scurvy and all kinds of deficiencies, yet had not aged at all in the time he had been missing. His brother had strange burns on his forearms that looked intentional, his brainwave activity was typical of a grand mal seizure even though he was unconscious, and in forty-two hours on IV and saline drips he had not produced sweat or urine, despite showing no other signs of dehydration.

Also, as he neared the private room - this "Chuck" must really like them - he noticed that they were not only awake, but James was cowering under the blankets and shrieking.

"I assure you, Jimmy, you have nothing further to..." the brother was saying, in a voice like Christian Bale's Batman. House thought he should probably ask about a smoking history.

"Shut up, Castiel!" Jimmy replied, clear anguish in his much-higher voice. "You can't hide anything from me. Least of all me. Do you have any idea what it was like, once you absorbed all those souls and I was getting drowned in them? No, because you were busy committing mass murder!"

_Psychosis? Paranoia? _House thought.

The one who had been addressed as Castiel did a fantastic impression of a kicked puppy. "It was the Leviathans taking over. For what it's worth, I'm very sorry."

"You two must be a barrel of laughs at Thanksgiving," House said.

Jimmy peeked out of the covers he had wrapped around himself as best he could, given everything he was hooked up to. "Who are you?"

"I'm Doctor House. Are you going to stop screaming at your brother, or shall I have you sedated?"

"He is _not _my brother," Jimmy said, though he got into a wary sitting position.

House clicked his tongue as he pulled up a chair and sat between them. "Drama, drama. I need you both to calm down and answer some questions."

...

Jimmy wasn't great at lying, but he knew he was better at it than Castiel. He shot his neighbor a look before beginning with the most plausible explanation he could think of. "We...um...Castiel was separated from me when I was young. Very young. I didn't even know he existed. He's, uh, uh, well, a special ops assassin. Kind of. I'm not allowed to tell you more. His enemies kidnapped me, hoping to get to him through me. We were reunited. Then he...tried to take over his organization, and both of us suffered severe consequences."

Castiel tilted his head in confusion but said nothing.

"Uh huh," the grizzled doctor said, sounding skeptical. "What's with the burns? A gang sign? Like Yakuza tattoos?"

Jimmy threw up his hands, so after a pause Castiel cleared his throat. "It's Enochian. A message from my superiors."

"Enochian?"

"A - a code. A special code," Jimmy said.

House looked at each of the men, sizing them up, and then got to his feet with the assistance of his cane. Which Jimmy noticed had flames painted on it. "In about half an hour I'll have my people bring a wheelchair so we can do some tests, Castiel. I want to talk to Jimmy in private."

"I don't need testing," Castiel muttered.

House snorted. "I'll be the judge of that, thank you."

Jimmy rubbed his temples, feeling a migraine coming. "Could I maybe have something to eat, please?"

"It would be a bad idea for the first few days, given how much your stomach has shrunk. Has Cas been stealing all your lunches or something?"

To Jimmy's surprise, a rueful smile ghosted across Castiel's face. "That would be one way to state it."

"_Please. _I'm so hungry. I haven't - I feel like I haven't - eaten for months."

"Maybe if you're a very, very good boy."

"What kind of doctor are you?"

House smirked. "The best."

"He likes burgers," Castiel said quietly. Jimmy wondered if that was humanized-angel for "I'm sorry."

...

"We don't have much time before we are separated and questioned."

Jimmy lay back and shut his eyes. "I was aware, thanks."

"You do know that the Apocalypse would have gone forth had I no suitable vessel."

"That's the only reason I'm not trying to strangle you right now. I'm assuming you've lost your powers, or else you would be out of here."

Experimenting with the button that raised and lowered his bed, Castiel replied, "Most of them have been drained for the moment. Though vulnerable to injury, and unable to fly, I still require no food or rest."

"Lucky you." Jimmy noticed a glass of water by his bedside and drank it. "I suppose we should call the Winchesters."

"That seems logical."

"I'll make the call. So I can reassure them that you have stopped your delusions of grandeur." He paused. "You have, right?"

Castiel nodded. "Pride goes before a fall. The burns on my arms attest to them."

"What do they say?"

"'You overstepped, yet I forgive. Your power will grow as you redeem yourself. Signed, Father.'"

"Fine time He showed up."

"I wasn't going to say it."

They looked at each other for a moment, ice breaking, and Jimmy found himself giggling only a _little_ hysterically. "At least you got His attention with your stunt."

Something occurred to Castiel. "I would not have left you, had I been capable of leaving. I would have taken you with me."

"Right."

"I mean it."

Jimmy rubbed his face. He hoped he could take a shower soon; it'd been ages. "Thanks, I guess. I'm not sure what I'll do after this, assuming we don't get locked up in a mental hospital. When you were briefly omniscient, I found out Amelia's remarried; not that I blame her. And I wouldn't want to put her or Claire into danger anyway."

"Perhaps you should give Claire a phone call anyway. She loves you very much."

"For all the good that does us."

"Jimmy." Castiel reached to touch his former vessel lightly on the shoulder. "She is guaranteed a place in Heaven, and it is impossible for a demon ever to possess her without being incinerated by residual holiness. I have felt both of you. I have used both your brains and hearts as well as bodies. I know her phone number. Call her when you can."

Vision blurring, Jimmy nodded. "But I'll call Sam and Dean first." He pressed a button to request assistance.

...

"Hi, Sam? Sam, it's Jimmy. I remember your voice. We just woke up in a hospital in New Jersey...My, um, my _twin brother _Castiel is _better now..._apparently his - our - dad stepped in. Yep. Yeah, that's what I said. Talk about deadbeats, right? Castiel's friend Chuck brought us in but he hasn't visited us. We're both kind of weak. Nothing really seriously wrong. At least it doesn't look like it. Cas can't do everything he's used to, but he's still him. It's nice not being so...codependent, as we were. Dean wants to what? Oh. Not surprised. I'll put Cas on."

"Dean? I do not understand the phrase 'freaky as shit'. Oh. Okay then. I'm sorry. What else can I say? Jimmy thinks I should lie to them. I'm not good at lying. Yes. Yes. No. My apologies to Death as well. From what I can sense, the civil war seems to be over. Apparently Father finally took notice and tidied things. I do not see the humor - all right, maybe I do. Dean, why are you crying? Isn't crying an expression of sorrow? I'm still an angel, I am just low on power, but I have been left a message saying I can still regain it. I did what? That wasn't me, that was the Leviathans. Neither was that. I wouldn't have done that. No. All right, destroying the KKK was me. I said I was sorry. Shut up."

After Castiel hung up, he turned to Jimmy in wonder. "Dean still has my coat."

_It's really my coat, _Jimmy thought, but he didn't want it back that much, and there was something raw in Castiel's tone that made him reply gently, "Of course he does."


	2. Chapter 2

_Note: if you have favorited this story or have signed up to be alerted, I would really appreciate a review so I know what particularly appeals to you. I want to write a story all of us will enjoy. Thanks!_

_..._

"I don't need a wheelchair," Castiel told the doctors who came to fetch him.

"It's just a precaution," said the female one. Doctor Hadley.

"Why do they call you 'Thirteen'? Are you considered unlucky?"

"Cas, don't," Jimmy whispered.

It was too late. Doctor Hadley's eyes widened. "How did you know that?"

"I'm sure he overheard someone calling you that," the man, Doctor Foreman, suggested.

"That...must have been it," Castiel said, as if the words were causing him pain. He climbed out of bed, pointedly avoiding the wheelchair. "If I am to cooperate, I demand pants. And a timetable for when you will release myself and Jimmy."

"You're having some very unusual symptoms, Mr. Novak, and we need to sort out what's going on -" Doctor Hadley began.

Castiel's icy blue eyes bore into her soul. "Pants. Now."

...

When Doctor House returned, Jimmy waved in Castiel's obstinate direction. "Your staff will have a handful with him."

"Just as well. They've been annoying me lately." House gave Jimmy an excellent interrogator's stare. "Now I want you to tell me the truth. I separated Castiel from you cause you seem to be scared of him."

"I think his heart's in the right place, but he's very cold, and he doesn't always think about his effect on people," Jimmy said.

"Because he's an 'assassin'?"

"Okay, he's not an assassin."

"Thought so. You're a terrible liar, you know."

Jimmy shifted, uncomfortable. "Castiel is worse. But you're not going to believe the truth. You're going to lock us up."

"We only have the power to send someone to the mental hospital against their will if we can prove they are a danger to themselves or others. If your level of crazy is considered benign, we can't do more than mock you incessantly. And it might be essential to figuring out what's wrong with him."

"Nothing's wrong with him that you can fix. And I'll be fine once I get some food in me and figure out what to do with myself. You really should just send us on our way. We have some friends we can stay with until we're back on our feet."

"I promise I'm not going to dissect you. Much."

With a deep sigh, Jimmy said, "I'm not worried about what you might or might not do to me. At least now that I know you can't legally institutionalize me. I'm worried about everyone in this hospital being in mortal danger."

House merely raised an eyebrow.

Jimmy clenched and unclenched his fists. "I know it sounds ridiculous and paranoid, but Castiel has some scary enemies, and they're not going to care about collateral damage. We've been on the run for -" Then he clutched at his chest and cried out.

Given his damaged leg, House's leap to assist his patient was impressive. Jimmy was spurting blood from a wound that seemed entirely, impossibly, spontaneous. As House put pressure on the jagged hole and called for help, he thought - though it must have been the shock - that he saw a clump of what looked like rock salt spill out as well.

...

This particular test was with a Doctor Taub, who was conferring with the others in whispers they didn't think he could hear. "Now, Castiel, we're going to put you in the MRI to look at your brain functioning as you answer simple questions. _Bit of a holy terror, like House said he was?"_

_"That doesn't even begin to describe it. It's like he's from the Planet Belligerent or something," _Doctor Foreman whispered back.

The doctor her coworkers and lover called Thirteen said, "_He seems perfectly healthy. Almost absurdly healthy. But the machines think he's having a huge seizure."_

_"Could there be something wrong with the machines?"_

_"That's what we thought, but either something's wrong with every single one we have, or something strange is going on with the guy."_

Castiel grew annoyed at their chatter, even as the diagnostic device carried him into its tunnel. "I don't see the point of this," he called out.

"Name?"

"Castiel."

"Occupation?"

"You wouldn't believe me."

"Try me. Answering honestly will help us be accurate."

"I am an angel of the Lord."

"I said honestly."

"I am being honest."

"Okay...um, career skills?"

"I am the angel of Thursdays and lost travelers. Any jokes about that you can think of have probably already been made. I have also fought against demons, wicked humans, Horsemen of the Apocalypse, and other angels gone rogue."

Nervous laughter. "That must keep you busy."

"Don't patronize me. I have Fallen. I have Risen. I have died and lived again. I have bled and doubted and sorrowed, lost brothers and sisters, learned terrible lessons and paid torturous prices. Also your machine makes a high-pitched whine that hurts my ears."

_"I can see why his brother's scared of him," _Foreman muttered.

"I'm not his brother. I assumed his form in order to interact with mortals and walk the Earth without destroying the feeble shadows you call reality."

"If you're an angel, where are your wings?"

Castiel had enough of this. He showed them, and the machine, as much as he could of his wings without burning out their eyes and completely obliterating the hospital. A thunderstorm began outside. The MRI shot sparks, smoked, and irrevocably broke. Castiel punched a hole in the side of it and climbed out. "Any more questions?"


	3. Chapter 3

Castiel stalked towards House, who was sprawled on one of the doctor's lounge couches and had been glaring at the coffee pot for its crime of being empty. "Where is Jimmy?"

"I was going to take your beloved twin on a nice picnic, maybe a little trip to the zoo since he doesn't seem to get out much, but he spontaneously developed three bullet holes and a stab wound while I was watching him." House scowled and tapped Castiel's foot with his cane. "I initially dismissed his melodramatic assertion that you were an assassin, but if the KGB has been developing a non-corporeal arsenal that you've been experimenting with, then I want to know now."

"Why would you take Jimmy on a picnic if he is very ill and you seem to be a highly misanthropic individual?" Castiel asked, tilting his head.

"All right, I'll mark you down for possible autism. Did you give my minions the slip just to come rushing to quiz me?"

At that very moment the other three doctors came running after Castiel, all yelling at once.

Foreman nearly dropped his clipboard and had to fumble to rescue it. "House! He broke the MRI!"

"He punched a damn hole in the wall!" Taub was nearly hysterical.

Thirteen came to a stop and smoothed her hair. "Some very serious anomalies…" she said quietly, her hands shaking.

"This is not of import. I need to see Jimmy."

"What, so this one's Captain Marvel and his brother's Billy Batson, the crippled newsboy? Sounds like a raw deal for Slim Jim." Suddenly, House threw the empty coffee pot at Castiel.

The diagnostics team nearly had a collective aneurysm. But Castiel caught it with one hand. "I have done Jimmy too much harm already. I may be the only one who can save him."

"Your God complex is showing -"

Castiel dropped the coffee pot, which fortunately did not shatter, and grabbed House by the collar. "How do you know about that?" he growled.

The other two men tried to separate them, but Castiel was immovable. House smirked and croaked, "Figure - of - speech."

"Why are you smiling?" Castiel let go, slightly ashamed of his temper, and wished he had his coat so he could tuck his hands in the pockets. He settled for clasping them behind his back.

"Relax," House told his underlings, "Brass Cas is too worried about Slim Jim to jeopardize their place at the hospital further."

"You sure you don't want him sedated?" Foreman asked, eying Castiel.

House picked up the coffee pot and put it back on the electric heater. "And what the hell good would that do? We don't want any more Hulking out. And yes, I am mixing my DC and Marvel references, shut up. As for you, Castiel, I've decided that I like you two, deep-seated sociopathic and psychotic issues notwithstanding. Because unlike ninety-eight percent of the mewling and puking masses I have to coddle, you are actually interesting."

...

Despite the heavy painkiller haze, Jimmy ached in a million places as he returned to consciousness.

A hand took his. No one had taken his hand for a long time. It was at least a minute before his vision focused well enough to see who it was.

"Claire?" he whispered.

A smile broke over his sixteen-year-old daughter's face. She had grown so much in three years, since that terrible day when he last saw her. She'd sprouted up and filled out. Her lovely blonde hair was short now, though, and she wore all black. "Hi, Dad."

"Honey...I..."

"Aren't you happy to see me?"

"Of course I am, but you _know _it's not safe, you know -"

"It's not safe with Mom and Keith," she replied, squeezing his hand tighter. "That's his name. He wanted me to call him Dad but it never seemed right."

Jimmy strained to sit up. "Did he hurt you?"

"Not Keith. He tried to be nice. But - well, when you came back, and I let Castiel in, but you made Castiel take you back so I could have a normal life, you remember how Mom got possessed by a demon? Yeah. I never really got over it. We moved to Albany, New York to hide from the demons, but I kept thinking that one day I would be with Mom and she wouldn't be Mom again. Don't cry, Dad, it's just the truth. Would you like some water? I'll get you some."

"Did Castiel fly off? How did you find me, anyway?"

Claire jerked her head towards the door. "Castiel is sitting right outside reading a magazine. I asked him to let us talk in private first. We talked a little. He said he was sorry and I said it was okay. It would have been nice if he let us know you were safe, but I know now that angels don't think like we do. Here you go."

"Thanks, sweetie."

"Mom stopped looking for you. I didn't, though. I joined the email lists of a bunch of Missing Person sites, so I'd get notified of someone showed up. When you and Castiel were brought in here an alert went to my inbox. I called the hospital and found out where you were. I was going to tell Mom, but when I ran into Keith again he was...I don't know how to explain it, but he was standing and smiling oddly. I can tell the difference between you and Castiel by how you move and talk. It's similar. So to test it, I told him I was going to see the movie _The Count of Monte Christo _with some friends. I read that if you say 'Christo; to a demon it will wince. And he did. It wasn't big, but he did."

After thinking for a moment, Claire fetched her own cup of water. "So I quietly went and packed a bag. And typed Mom a delayed text that wouldn't get sent to her until five hours later. I got a big thing of salt I was keeping under my bed and hid it in my bag until I was out of the house. I made a ring of salt around the whole house to keep the demon in. Then I ran to the bus station as fast as I could."

Jimmy opened and closed his mouth several times. Eventually he put his face in his hands. "I'm sorry for all of this."

"It's okay, Dad. It really is. We're together now, and I know you can't ever be possessed by a demon, and Castiel doesn't need your body anymore, so the nice brothers who helped us last time can teach us how to defend ourselves. And Castiel promises to take care of us."

Castiel entered the room. "Have you finished discussing the essential things?"

"For now, yes," Claire said.

"I've realized, Jimmy, that you're going to be undergoing all the injuries your body sustained while I used it as a vessel, unless I do something to stop it. I'm not sure why, but I do have the ability to prevent your further wounding. It would, however, trap me in this shell for the rest of my existence."

"You'd become human?" Jimmy asked.

"Not really. I would still be myself, and might even regain most of the powers I have while I am on Earth, but I would be barred from Heaven for as long as the Earth shall remain." Castiel paused and spoke more slowly and softly. "I would...I would have wished the price were not so high. And I wish I did not feel such an obligation to you and your family."

"Castiel, I don't know what to say," Jimmy began, reaching to shake his hand.

"Especially since your wife was just killed," Castiel continued with regret.

_"WHAT?"_

"I was going to break it to him gently," Claire protested.

"Niiiiiice," House commented as he hobbled in. "I need to bring my friend Wilson in later to show him someone who has an even worse bedside manner than I do. Now, Miss Claire Novak, maybe you can help shed some light on your daddy and uncle."

"Castiel is going to heal Dad, so then we'll be fine and we can go."

"Right. Because Castiel is an Angel of the Lord." House's sneer could have melted slugs.

"You should have seen how I reacted when I found out," said a new voice.

Castiel gasped, "Dean..."

Dean Winchester had the tan coat over one arm. And a sawn-off shotgun in the other hand. "We need to talk, Cas. Alone."


	4. Chapter 4

"I understand your desire to talk to me, Dean," Castiel said, "but I need to heal Jimmy before another of our past injuries manifests itself."

Sam Winchester ducked to avoid hitting his head on the top of the doorframe, also with a sawn-off shotgun, a knife in his belt, and a sack over his shoulder. "We don't have a lot of time."

"Please...I don't want any more bad things to happen to dad, Castiel," Claire said, touching the angel lightly on the elbow.

"Wait, time until _what, _exactly? And what's with the local militia up in arms?" House asked.

"Sam used to get visions..."

"I know," Castiel said.

"Well, Jimmy, Claire, and whoever that poor bastard is glaring at me in the corner and asking all the questions who is going to get dragged into it hasn't had the luxury of stalking me since I was born! Now are you going to shut up, since this could get seriously dire and we're trying to _help you _even though you sincerely fucked up lasted time we got into a similar situation?"

Jimmy coughed. "Language, boys."

"It's okay, Dad, I watch cable," Claire replied.

"Anyway, I thought it was just a dream, since if it was really you talking to one of us in dreams you would have gone to Dean because of the 'profound bond' or whatever," Sam said, getting himself a drink of water, the cup comically tiny in his large hand. "But when we were fighting some demons, they confirmed it. They said they had worse problems than us. Then we got a visitor..."

"Crowley," Jimmy said. Everyone stared at him, and he gathered the blankets around himself, mindful of his stitches. "What? I remember things too. It's not like I was comatose in there, just sort of spaced-out. There aren't any more unfallen angels on your side roaming the earth, and you were in Ohio when we talked. There's no way you could have gotten here so fast without help from someone with that level of power."

"You all actually believe the things you're saying," House mused to himself.

It did him credit how little yelping and jumping he did when he felt Crowley's hand on his shoulder. "I feel for you a bit, darling, given what you're going to have to see within the next hour or so."

"What did the demons and your vision say?" Castiel asked.

Crowley pouted. "What, no hello? After all we did together?"

"Priorities, demon," Castiel growled.

"God is coming," Dean said.

"What?" House asked, having finally managed to produce sound again.

"You make that sound like it's a bad thing," Claire said. "And, isn't this guy a demon?"

"He's an okay demon, on our side; sort of complicated," Jimmy whispered before addressing Castiel. "I know you've had your differences - Lord, that sounds odd - but you had the message saying you've been forgiven, you're just sort of...grounded."

"It's not that in of itself," Crowley said. "It's that every demon walking the Earth right now is terrified. And some of them, the cleverer ones, think that they can escape destruction if they have something to bargain with. Like, say, a third-tier angel who went too far trying to win a civil war in Heaven, then claimed to be the new Lord of All until it killed him. They felt you come back, Castiel dear, and they're thinking that if they have you captured, maybe they'll have a bit of leverage."

"Lots of demons are coming?" Claire asked. "I mean, the kind that isn't okay, even if it's sort of complicated?"

"Yeah," Sam and Dean chorused accidentally.

Claire bit her lip and went to the corner to fetch her backpack. "Good thing I brought a lot of salt. Demons can't possess me or Dad or the Winchesters, but I'm not losing another parent today."


	5. Chapter 5

Claire was nearly finished making the line of salt around the room when Wilson showed up. "House, what have you been…oh God. Guns. How did you two get in here with _guns_?"

"We're not going to hurt you," Sam said quickly.

"We got zapped here by him," Dean said, waving at Crowley.

House motioned at his friend to join him. "I'll give the best explanation I can."

"Why don't I handle that?" Crowley suggested, sidling up to Wilson and ushering him to House's corner.

Meanwhile, Castiel adjusted his overcoat and said softly, "Jimmy, these aren't ideal conditions, but I think it best."

Claire put the salt back in her bag and joined her father's side, taking his hand. "Thank you, Castiel. I know it's hard."

"You do owe me," Jimmy murmured.

Castiel put a hand on either side of Jimmy's face. "As you wish." The room filled with light.

When it was possible to see again, Castiel was crumpled on the floor. Dean rushed to him. "Cas!"

"He'll be all right," said another voice from the doorway.

Wilson threw up his hands. "Do we just not have security anymore?"

Sam recognized the diminutive scruffiness that was Chuck Shurley, shutting the door behind himself as he entered. (It was House who observed Crowley's self-confidence dissolving and his getting to his feet and swaying like a kid who's forgotten his line in the school play.) "Chuck, Chuck, you've got to get out of here! There isn't really time to explain, but God's coming!"

Chuck, however, seemed more apologetic than alarmed, and wore a neat button-up white shirt and blue jeans without any stains rather than his usual disheveled clothes. "Ohhh…awkward. Guess you guys didn't get the memo."

"I'm sorry if I…well, I wasn't sure how much you wanted me to…you know what, I could just be on my way…" Crowley slammed against an invisible barrier in a manner that would have been comical had everyone not been so much on edge.

"Salt," Claire pointed out.

"No, no, stay. I want to talk to all of you here, even if like with Gregory it's more about a word of encouragement. I've decided to be more hands-on again. The sabbatical wasn't a total wash but the angels still did a far worse job than I was expecting."

Dean paused in his fussing over Castiel to look up, angry. "He better not be saying what I think he's saying, Sammy."

Sam folded his arms. "Are you saying that _you're _God?"

"No," Chuck replied, looking up to meet the younger Winchester's eyes. "I'm saying I always was God. Like Anna/Annael – whom I've brought back and is helping fix Heaven up again, by the way – I just didn't always know it."

"You're not joking," Dean said.

"I have to turn off a lot of my power in order to walk among you without turning you to a crisp, and it's a lot easier to do in the shape I wore for all these years, but yes."

Castiel stirred. "Don't you dare…punch my father…in the face…"

"Cas!" Dean helped his guardian angel sit up. "How do you feel?"

"Better than I expected. Father…"

Jimmy interrupted, "Um, excuse me, sorry, just a sec, but I have a very important question…"

"Will you bring Mom back?" Claire finished.

"She's in Heaven, and it isn't generally a good idea to yank a human from Heaven. I'm sorry. You do have your father back, though, Claire, and nothing will separate you until you are ready and you have both been repaid properly. One day you will understand."

Her eyes welling up, Claire nodded, and the Novaks clung to one another.

"What, you're just going to take that?" Dean growled. "After all the crap you've been put through? After what all of us – 'cept maybe the docs in the corner – have been put through?"

Sam said, "Dean, careful."

"I don't care about being careful! We've done so much! Lost so much! How dare you just waltz in here after everything that's happened and act like everything's fine now?"

"I'm not usually this relaxed about such blatant resentment, but the last time I talked to the kid," (here all the humans in the room did a double take) "He said I should try being more empathetic, and I learned some things while being just Chuck. I believe there's a song about wayward sons…" He shuffled awkwardly, for a moment once again the hack writer and reluctant prophet the Winchesters and Castiel had come to consider a friend.

"I suggest, Dean, that you get back into your Impala, which you will find parked just outside this hospital, with Sam by your side, as it should always be. And with Jimmy and Claire in the back seat. I can't undo their having been vessels, and they will be safest with you and learning how to hunt. Go to Bobby's house, explain the situation to Bobby. Castiel will follow after you once we've had a private talk that's been long overdue."

Castiel's face was unreadable, but his eyes were very bright. "Yes, Father."

"Just so you know, Gabriel's back in Heaven but Balthazar will be grounded, stuck on Earth like you are for the time being until you've learned some things yourself. Balthazar is probably going to want to hit you fairly hard once you run into him."

At this, Castiel nearly smiled. "I will prepare myself for the eventuality."

"Crowley, there has to a Hell for Heaven to have meaning. You've done decently as the ruler. I don't see why it shouldn't continue, for a while at least. If you get sick of it then drop me a line and we'll see if we can redistribute power without massacres and apocalypses for a change." He scrubbed a gap in the salt line with his foot. "You can go now. I've learned to take reconciliation slow."

Crowley mouthed a thank you and promptly skedaddled.

"Doctors, the damage to your hospital will be repaired, and all memory of these events will be gone from everyone except for you two if you choose to remember. We'll chat for a bit first so you can make an informed decision." Chuck snapped his fingers and –


	6. Chapter 6

Sorry it took this long. I hope you like it.

...

"Why've you been acting all weird?" House asked Wilson when he finally cornered him in the cafeteria. Wilson had just sat down with a salad and couldn't flee without being obvious about it.

"I don't know what you mean," Wilson replied, turning over lettuce leaf and sighing. "They really should label these things. Do you want it?"

"What's wrong with it?"

"It's got bacon bits. I didn't notice until now."

House leaned forward and gazed at Wilson as if his friend was a sample of abnormal leukocytes in a petri dish. "Since when are you such a stickler about keeping kosher? Just eat around it like you always do when you remember it's a thing rather than inhaling your food too fast to register the meat products involved."

"Maybe I'm trying to be less hypocritical. Want it? I'd feel bad about just throwing it away."

Yanking the plate to his side of the table and plucking the plastic fork from Wilson's hand, House said, "This is exactly the kind of behavior I'm finding unsettling. You asked a woman who just lost her mom if she'd like a hug and when she said okay you gave her one, despite you never having met her before and not even learning her name before she left, so I know it wasn't some come-on. You keep staring at patients who aren't even yours, like looking at them with enough compassion or whatever would magically make them better. Plus you haven't bickered with me all week. No matter how much I goad. Fess up."

Wilson bit his lip, the way he did shortly before yielding, but stalled by means of lemonade consumption. House could wait. There was so much ice in the glass this would buy Wilson twenty seconds at most. "How much does something count as having happened if you yourself don't remember it happening?" Wilson asked, his voice barely audible over the chatter around them.

"Depends whether it has residual effects." House thought about this and frowned. "Do you have gaps in your memory or something? Didn't think you were the type to drink that hard."

"No gaps in _mine._ Maybe that would have been better."

Wilson volunteered no further clues to what his current deal was. House did notice, though, that Wilson kept squirreling little salt packets into his pockets with far less subtlety than he thought he possessed. And Wilson had never shown an interest in the various ways to minimize the potential health risks of tattoos before. When House brought up the Leviticus verse forbidding tattoos Wilson shrugged. "Things change."

...

It was a good thing Sam called Bobby ahead to let him know not only that they would need two extra places to sleep - Cas didn't count due to his lack of needing to sleep in the first place - but that Bobby would be kinda seeing double.

It wasn't that hard to tell Cas and Jimmy apart, though, even if they hadn't been dressed differently. Cas wasn't as awkwardly formal as he had once been but he still hadn't gotten the hang of moving like an organic being rather than a "wavelength of celestial intent" doing its best to be solid. Jimmy looked more like a kicked puppy even when he smiled than a literal baby dog that has been shoved with a boot looks like a kicked puppy.

Jimmy ate so much at once their first day at Bobby's place that he spent much of the following night puking. His daughter insisted on sitting next to him, the bathroom door open, alternating her comforting pep talks with mini lectures about how he shouldn't push himself. Claire seemed like a sensible girl. She was full of ideas about getting a GED and going part-time to a local community college in between learning more about the supernatural, helping Bobby with research and his auto shop, along with practicing weapon skills until she could go out on a hunting trip without Jimmy pitching a fit.

The Novaks thanked him way more than they needed to for giving them a place to start picking up the pieces. Bobby told them they were staying unless they found something better, and he didn't give a damn or a blessing or what the hell ever if that happened or not. Claire made him think too much of Jo for him to turn her away, especially with her having lost her mom but keeping calm and finding her dad again anyway. He didn't wish this life on anyone, but if Jimmy and Claire could survive being angel-ridden and come out sane, then they were more qualified than more than ninety percent of the human race for fighting what goes bump in the night.

Day two after the crew descended upon his home, when Cas and the Novaks were having a lengthy heart-to-heart and Claire was finally letting herself cry, Bobby and Dean and Sam mulled over the recent revelations with the assistance of as much liquor they were capable of having at once without dying.

"You know, this means God hit you over the head with a toilet plunger," Dean teased Sam after his third glass.

Sam threw up his hands. "Symbol of my life."

"The world makes much more sense now I know God's an idjit too. At least he turned out to be well-meaning." Later Bobby would tell the others about Anna, Gabriel, Balthazar, Crowley, and some bizarrely polite and soft-voice angel named Aziraphale all calling to say they wanted to visit soon. And that someone else had called to say Adam Milligan's soul was confirmed to be in heaven, then promptly hung up before Bobby could say anything in response.

Later. One reunion at a time. Going from lost to found wasn't like flipping a switch. Cas was supposed to be angel of lost travelers, though, right? Maybe that had been the plan all along.


End file.
